I get to think creatively during preproduction; what’s my shot composition, what colorful lighting to use for certain sets, and how to can separate scenes through visual aesthetics such as handheld versus dolly shots. We might even have enough time to rehearse the scenes in terms of both dialogue and staging, avoiding the headache of having to deal with actors (snotty fuckers for the most part). When all is said and done, we just show up, press record, get a few takes in the can, and move on down the shot-list until we break for mealtime or the day is done. Boring!

I must confess that I’ve misled you into thinking us a professional lot. Regrettably, the joke is on me, as we won’t be TOO rehearsed due to a genuine lack of professionalism. Instead, I’ll likely curse the cast, crew, catering, Waffle House employees, family, and whoever else has the nerve to approach me. At least I don’t have investors to bother me, with their needless financial concerns and silly opinions about commercial viability.

I go on record to say that principal photography is my absolute favorite part of the filmmaking process, confessing that I will have multiple tantrums on set and likely piss off a handful of sensitive types. What can be so good you may wonder, knowing that so much trouble can (and will) come about while filming? To a great extent, there’s a natural high in setting up the production and achieving what you had set out to achieve. Call it fulfillment, or adrenaline, or whatever you want; everyone on set gets a special little thrill at the end of the day when we know that we got the job done. Ah, but it is the “we” aspect of achievement that resonates most of all. “Teamwork, sportsmanship, how your friends look naked,” says Mr. Shoop.

Many of us on the crew side of production will sleep far too little. Cast and crew alike will begin to bicker about shit that would seem trivial to an outsider, but that’s an expected byproduct of overworked/underpaid guerilla filmmaking. Throughout all the chaos and perversion, a few people will walk away having developed those special friendships that only occur within the microcosm of a film set. Once you’ve shared the thrills and disgusts of a modern day exploitation film, you walk away from the experience with a life long bond – something like soldiers get from being the unwelcome occupiers of a foreign land, but minus the rape and regret. I’m not saying that I have a hard time making friends outside of the moviemaking process (if I did admit as much, I’d have to write a whole new blog explaining my aversion to strangers, and I’m really not in the mood to dig too deep in my more peculiar mannerisms). All I’m willing to admit in this post is that I’m truly excited about the upcoming production, specifically about the prospect of working with new people and making a few new friends. Cheers.

Transitioning into young adulthood, Star Wars was one of the few movie connections I could agree upon with my peers. Not every kid got to watch Jason Vorhees slaughter topless hotties in the woods, but a nerd is a nerd, and I’ll take a Star Wars nerd over a pretentious Sportscenter nerd any day of the week. Fast-forward to the sorta-present day, past the embarrassing Phantom Menace era stuff, and Star Wars seems more popular now than ever. My nephew is obsessed with Darth Vader and always seems to defeat me in backyard brawls via the Force. This is cheating I know, but who am I to deny a five year old the satisfaction of an old fashion choke-down sans the unpleasant involvement of athleticism and/or paramedics.

There’s no need for me to ponder further the “whys” of Star Wars popularity. The original trilogy was released at the right time in cinema, implemented never before scene timeless special effects, and marketed toys to the kiddies en masse. A little self reflection reveals that we are: 1) making a movie in the era of free downloads, targeted towards the demographic who happens to spend the least and download the most, 2) only exhibiting a few inventive ways to kill naked people, but doing little groundbreaking in the special effects department, 3) overall unable to market a movie where the title character has a dick attached to his chin, all the best still images are nudes, and the very title alone excludes it from mass marketing. I guess we won’t be making too much bread in the retention of merchandising rights, but we’ll keep them nonetheless.

These observations serve to give a small perspective to the financial ass-raping we should receive if we actually chose to spend a bunch of money on Cockface 3, but being the thrifty bunch that we are, naturally the budget costs most heavily fall on boobs and beer (narcotic substances off the books of course). So where was I going with the Star Wars thing… surely there’s something to be gained from the most financially lucrative franchise in film history? What do I personally like the most, not being a bias fanboy? The answer lies somewhere in my admiration for how the original trilogy stands out visually from the Sci-Fi of it’s day, and equally so from the Sci-Fi of the present. The look of Star Wars is timeless, even though it says something in the beginning about being set in the future. Lucas didn’t go with the wide lapels popularized by the Saturday Night Fever crowd. If he wanted the “long ago” look like the opening text claimed, he should have dressed the men in knee breeches and leather jerkins. A present-day interpretation would have Hans Solo in skinny jeans.

The costumes of Star Wars have helped to solidify its cult-status. Darth Vader looks totally evil, and he never even gets bloody. Princess Leia’s boobs are always taped down, but I’ll be damned if girls don’t jump at the chance to dress up like slave Leia (so hot). Costumes aren’t the only thing I like about Star Wars, because the movies really do kick ass and light-sabers really do steal the show, but we’re going for self reflection here, and I’m searching for ways I can emulate cinematic genius without tossing Cockface into space along with the Leprechaun, Pinhead, Jason Vorhees, and all the other exhausted horror franchises. Come to think of it, we don’t have anyone to do the costumes this go around… any volunteers? Imagine the Craigslist add we could post. Cheers!

Once you seal the deal, bailing out the window becomes an intriguing course of action. There’s no going back. If she was fat, you did the fat chic. If she had a festering STD, you’re now a card-carrying member of the local clinic. Lucky for me, I have no regrets in lovemaking, but there are times when “other” past indiscretions comes into question. Crank-whores and/or baby-mommas don’t mar my filthy past, but I do have to answer for my attempt at nudie satire. Do I regret making quasi-porn?

Whether or not I want to admit it, these films have finally become problematic to future business endeavors. My dreams of political cronyism are squashed. I’ll never hold a pubic office from which I can rape the treasury. I’ll also never get to make any money in the name of the Lord. Those churches are bleeding cash like it’s nobody’s business, but that money is off limits to a low-level smut producer, such as myself.

So where does this leave me? I’m currently being forced out of a business endeavor I have barely even started. What the fuck? My past is not something I can crawl away from with just a few broken ribs, or even something I could wash off with bleach and Brillo. Nope, I’m forever the guy who produced the dick-face movies. To some people, that’s kinda cool. To some people, that’s not acceptable.

Are my past choices mistakes? No… But… I have to admit that I’m feeling more than a little nervous about the future consequences of my past choices. These movies need to be made, if only for my own personal satisfaction. Maybe I’ll miss out on some great opportunity to lead a Girl Scout troop into the woods, but at least I can be proud of what I’ve done and everything that Terror Optics stands for. What ever does a smut-film production company stand for you ask? We’re here to remind you not to take shit so seriously. Relax. We’re not here for your daughter (at least not against her will). Our quandary is simple; how far do we wanna push the envelope here, and will this jeopardize any hopes for a career in film? Ah, but there’s the catch. I don’t want a career in film. I just wanna make the dick-face movies. Cheers.

Turn back the clock a decade. Mr. Pierre’s house (Andre’s dad’s house) was the primary location for Attack of the Cockface Killer, and this worked well because it addressed the basics: electricity, running water, and we could do whatever we wanted (provided we stayed out of Mr. Pierre’s room). An ever-ambitious bunch, we decided to drive an hour into the middle of nowhere to film Stabbed in the Face. We didn’t always have running water, but we could once again get away with filming just about anything. Sure the cops were called once, but they left without incident, and I never got cuffed. No harm no foul.

I have yet to produce a high-quality movie by almost every standard. Forget worrying about having the newest camera, or where to place the camera to motivate the story… the biggest question/concern involves WHERE you choose to shoot. Moving from location to location is difficult. People really bitch about being shuffled around. So there’s no bathroom at this location… find a dark corner or a bucket or a bush, I’m busy making a movie.

Therein lies the problem of the location, not that it doesn’t look right, or that some basic necessities are short, but that the cast/crew are becoming disgruntled. The crew becomes comfortable at one spot, only to pack up everything and move to a whole new location riddled with hindrances. The cast for some reason wants to have an illuminated room with a mirror – like I thought about that silly shit ahead of time. A perfect location accommodates in ways that make EVERYBODY happy. With Goregasm, my Uncle’s house functioned as seven different locations and doubled as a flophouse for half of the crew. Nobody bitched about a lack of modern conveniences, and more importantly, no time was wasted driving to and fro and having to unpack and repack equipment.

Considering how beautifully my Uncle’s house functioned as a “studio” space for Goregasm, Terror Optics Studios has recently acquired a studio of it’s own. We’ve got a giant metal building in an industrial part of town where there’s plenty of room to stretch out in style. I can guarantee that we’ve got the skills to turn this space into plenty of interesting and engaging set pieces, and I’m pretty sure the cops can’t shoo me off my own property. Yes indeed, I’m excited about principal photography for Cockface 3. Cheers.

Okay, artistic nudity has its place in cinema. Cinema is an art-form no greater or less than painting or photography. So why are sexploitation films given such a bad rap?

Do yourself a social hindrance and try to cast a model for an exploitation film. Go-ahead… logon to some model-mayhem casting-type website and find a pretty little thing that will get naked on camera. Chances are that she only does “artistic” nudes. Sorry bitch, I’m not Helmut Newton, AND I’m looking to see your crotch. This can only mean that I lack artistic intent. Immediately, I’ve fallen into sick pervert territory. How am I supposed to prove otherwise?

As frustrating as this may seem, I don’t want to work with someone who has little to no faith in the project. “Yes, this movie requires boobs and butts.” “No, we’re not making a porno.” “Yes, we want to see you naked.” “No, we’re not making a porno.” The fact that I’ve had this conversation more than once speaks poorly of my character – or does it?

This month has been spent combing through the character/cast requirements of Cockface 3, trying to identify the logistic concerns of casting and filming. Upon listing the cast and extras cast, we noticed that we’re lacking in a certain boob requisite. To add nudity for the sake of nudity is silly. The story must call for nudity, the nudity must motivate the characters and plot, and the audience must be properly primed to see the nudity. Kinda like foreplay, we want you to beg for the boobs and butts, and the goods aren’t coming out until you’ve been properly stimulated.

I can claim with full confidence that Cockface 3 will satisfy our target audience’s lust for butts. The nudity is there, but not just for nudity’s sake. I may not be able to convince the typical aspiring actresses to bare all (like you’re so fucking special), but I can guarantee that those faithful few who choose to become part of this project will look back on their involvement with pride. Sure, we say we’re “exploiting” sex. This is how we attract an audience. What’s the real motivation behind this project? We’re making a movie that certain weirdos (like me) want to see… and that movie just so happens to include boobs, butts, and a Cockface Killer. Cheers.

Step 2: Find a script

Step 3: Devote well over a year of your life to some stupid-fucking script that you should have had enough foresight to not sign off on in the first place.

Step 4: Repeat

The above four step program just about sums up my life as a guerilla filmmaker. This month, Terror Optics has decided to transition from Step 2 into Step 3. Alas, the folks here at Terror Optics Studios have gotten a little older and a tiny bit wiser in the decade plus we’ve squandered on booze and hookers. If there’s anything paying for sex has taught us, it’s that you should make sure you’re willing to risk your time and money. We’re not just going to walk blindly into the absurd world of the Cockface Killer on a whim. Nope. These days, we have to ask ourselves, what’s the fucking point? I think it we initially wanted to sexually exploit friends and strangers. Like watching girls masturbate – that’s just awesome.

Nowadays, there’s gotta be more to this whole devoting a year plus of my life to a film project. In the past I’ve actually caught myself wondering, “Do I really believe in this film?” I long for the olden days when I’d call up the gang and we’d be knee deep in guerilla filmmaking. Time passed, and I’d call up the gang (ever dwindling in numbers) only to be put off. What the fuck? Am I to believe that you losers actually found something better to do with your time than exploit strangers? Really? I thought church membership was on the decline. Then I found out about barroom sport leagues. Don’t get me started. Let’s get back to the old days of risking arrest and litigation. No?

This scenario has caused us to take things a little slower – to proceed with caution. Convincing people to do crazy shit at the spur of the moment is one thing. Scheduling crazy shit (and usually crazy people) is a different story altogether. Okay, I get it; we’re supposed to be telling a story. We need to inspire the cast and crew, engage them with the story, and convince them that this film will fulfill them in some way that marriage, or children, or prayer, or even alcohol simply cannot. But then I realize that the title character runs around with a dick on his chin (and he doesn’t even look all that threatening to be honest). Nope, I’m not gonna convince many people outside the dedicated Terror Optics Alum to devote the next couple months to aiding in this project. Sure I could bribe them, but that almost defeats the purpose.

But wait… there’s a purpose!

Terror Optics Studios needs the challenge of a Cockface Killer movie. Short films are fun and more accessible to fans via Vimeo and YouTube, but a Cockface feature film demands that we push ourselves to new and more ridiculous limits. No, we don’t want to end up on the wrong side of the law, and no, we don’t wanna start a project we’re incapable of completing. That said, Cockface 3 will flirt with disaster (as it must), but that foreplay just makes the action all the more wet and fantastic! Cheers.

Actually, Terror Optics doesn’t pay people for words. Show me you genitals and maybe I’ll pick up the tab, but words are cheap. This attitude is perhaps why we’ve made such gripping work in the past. All kidding aside, writing a script is hard. The patience and persistence involved in composing a story with a beginning, middle, and ending is far harder than just typing whatever comes to mind (which is really all this blog offers). Jared Scallions wrote the first three features we’ve produced, and I’ll certainly give credit to where credit is due. I’ve outlined some ideas. I’ve written a few scenes. I’ve started writing a script more than once. Jared actually finished. Bill Heintz gets the credit for nearly every short we’ve ever produced. Bill wrote a script called Demon Spawn in just two weeks when I pressed him for it (something about a grant program, long shot of course). Alas, I’ve never written a script from start to finish. Maybe one day I’ll grow a pair of balls – I started a blog after all, at least my typing speed is improving.

Knowing without question that my career, future, and reputation are all on the line with Cockface 3, this script has just got to be perfect. As some people may have gathered via previous posts on our website or whatever other social media type outlets, the follow up to Goregasm has had several false starts. Many moons ago, the Cockface Killer himself (Beckhouse, the man behind the mask) took on the challenge of walking the retarded path of a sexually frustrated mongoloid killer. We agreed that we spend all our time in bars these days, as opposed to the more house party scene of yesteryears, so the appropriate place for Cockface had to be the barroom. Beckhouse kept a nice log of the more ridiculous instances in the 24-hour bar culture, but the story just didn’t connect. We didn’t know what exactly, but we knew the script needed something more. My good friend Nick then offered to tell a story from the collected ramblings of Cockface and I, but the source was simply too jumbled. A script was finished, we slowly got the ball rolling, but we abruptly came to a stop. The story had a beginning, middle and an end… so what else do you fucking need?

It turns out that we needed a fresh start. All the social commentary and subliminal messages I’d tried so hard to work into the story just confused Beckhouse, Nick, and even me. The script was shelved. Another year passed, and still we had no movie to shoot.

I’ll have to admit, things got a little gloomy over at Terror Optics headquarters. The dildos began to droop and the blood began to dry. All the old familiar questions began to surface yet again: “why don’t you make a REAL movie”, “isn’t the real sex going to limit distribution”, “will anyone really take you serious with a Cockface Killer?” The answer to all those questions remains the same – fuck it. I think we should make Cockface 3, and I think the new script is really cool. More on that subject next time. Cheers.

Either way, its way past time that Terror Optics had a voice on the internet. Sure, I’ve got a guy wearing a dildo screaming unintelligible, but maybe I should clarify. In other words, screaming and flailing blood isn’t fully expressing my mind these days. Guess I need to join the real interweb insiders and blog about shit. So, like the formerly awesome student of days old, I do my research.

I’ve read a bunch of popular blogs (these assholes make a living off this shit), but just as I suspected, these people are writing a bunch of witty bullshit. In all fairness, some blogs are just funny pictures. I like funny picture blogs. Alas, funny pictures require the skillful craft of sorting through the interweb, something that, if I was good at, I’d had known what’s a fucking blog before I had to ask – really late to the internet party. Even worse, now I’m addicted to the good blogs. Subjective I know, but anyone writing about how hard it is to deal with the outside world just fucking intrigues me. I can curse on the internet right?

So, I’ve actually been paying for the internet for a couple months now and I’ve got no good reason to be disconnected from the outside world. Geez, what ever happened to taking a walk? In all seriousness, I’m not much of a walker, but more of a sitting at the bar kinda guy. That doesn’t carry much social stigma where I’m from, like I care what the interweb thinks.

Apparently I do (damn shameful really). Yep, time to buckle down and contribute my own dribble to the online community where sharing substitutes for a real life.

Back to the whole “having a Terror Optics blog” thing. This entry is gonna have to suffice as the intro. I promise to blog about horror movie shit from now on (although I do enjoy breaking promises). The good news is that we’ve finally settled on a script for Cockface 3. We’ve had soooo many false starts on this movie I feel really behind in the whole guerilla-smut-filmmaking racket. There are some really good modern exploitation films out these days. Maybe that can be a topic of future blogs?

Anyways, welcome to the Terror Optics blog. I plan on divulging all the juicy secrets behind Cockface 3 (is that even a working title?). Maybe I’ll even grow a pair and allow for comments below these blogs. Not likely, I’m really sensitive to criticism. Cheers.